Terror of Cohesion
by CangarooO
Summary: Terrorism strikes in the Candy Kingdom after anti-segregation laws are passed. Rated M due to potentially disturbing themes including graphic violence - bumped up from T because of swearing and so forth.
1. Chapter 1 - The Opening Act

I was six when the first attack hit. Nothing big, to everyone else. The CCC struck the bus me and my dad were on, 'protests' against the new anti-segregation laws. My mind recoils at the horror of seeing the vehicle that I was on being shredded under shrapnel and my dad yelling, reaching out for me. People around me died, sinew snapping, bone breaking, and I rushed to my dad but he was torn apart by flying debris, ichor and organs spilling across the floor. I was thrown aside, hitting the wall I heard an awful crunch. Pain surged through my body, a tidal wave of fear and dread.

I blacked out.

The next thing I remember is being in the hospital, my mum weeping by my side. Most of my candy had become irrigated and required transplants, unfortunately the waiting list was too long so I was left under medical care with 3 limbs and a missing chunk of head.

"Wha- What happened?" I asked sheepishly. Fearing the answer, I continued "Where's dad?"

The reply still haunts me to this day, my mum tried to talk but choked up with tears so one of the nurses had to answer.

"You were the victim of a terrorist attack. One of your limbs and part of your head was damaged beyond repair." The nurse continued, softly, calmly "I'm so sorry, but your father passed away."

Silence. All sound emptied from the room, evacuated up with my coherent thoughts. Only the drumming of my mother's tears remained, a constant beating reminder of the situation.

"That was three weeks ago, you've been out since then. You should be functional in a week or two, now that you're up."

Three weeks? It was curious how long I had been unconscious. I must have gone into shock because my mind was purely rational decisions and thoughts at that point. I continued my probing for information:

"How many were killed in the... accident?"

The nurse's reply was solemn. "You are the only survivor. We didn't know if you were going to come to, though. It has bee-"

He was interrupted by my mum gagging out a sentence. "None of that matters any more, all that matters is you're Ok, thank Glob."

That was 5 years ago but I remember it as if it were yesterday. I never managed to get my arm back but since then I have had a candy transplant and I am now entirely healed, the chunk in my head filled in by a sympathetic peppermint that the Princess had sent to interview me a couple of years ago. The Candy Cleaving Club is still active and growing, the people of this metropolis live in fear of being targeted by them. Some are saying that we should give in to their needs, that we should re-introduce the separation of Candyfolk from the "_others" _to stop the slaughtering. Fortunately the princess is adamant on the fact that her people should stay strong, that they will hunt and snuff out the CCC's movements, restoring peace to the Candy Kingdom.


	2. Chapter 2 - Painful Nights

"Look, dude. Either you tell us how you knew what we were planning or I'm going to beat the shit out of you."

My intruder was a familiar sight. As the head of the Banana Guards I've done a lot of work with the CCC. The long, toffee coloured sleeve gloves were a staple of their cultist uniform. Much of the rest was allowed to be interchangeable, especially for public disguise. This man was no exception.

"Not much of a talker, eh?"

His maniacal words filled me with dread, I feared another blow. Unfortunately for me, my predication skills were definitely up to scratch. A hand struck the side of my head, blurring the world a bit, causing my glass to creak under the strain.

"You fucking twat! You're not letting up, are you? You know that this is just going to slightly hamper me getting the information I want. Here, you see this?" He sneered, pulling a scalpel from his belt "This is normally better at cutting up candy but I guess we should give it a try on a _foris_ as well."

_Foris_, that hurt; I hadn't experienced mocking about my structure for years. I thought about the word, it was an odd one. Apparently it derived from an ancient language from nearly 3000 years ago. It meant 'outsider', apparently. I hadn't much time to dwell on the matter though as the cold blade penetrated my glass, spilling some of my contents - I let out a muffled yelp.

"Oh, have you finally found your voice. Excellent. Now, Root Beer Guy, tell me how you knew our plan!"

He started getting louder and louder, almost shouting by the end. The man was a lunatic, of course. His emotions were completely unstable, fluctuating from taunting villain to rambling madman in the drop of a hat.

"Well, no worries. I have other... plans."

I didn't fear pain, or death. The CCC couldn't know about the mole we had planted. I shuddered at the thought of what they would do to him if they found out...

"Oh? A little frightened?" He remarked, clearly misinterpreting my body language.

"I guess I'm going to prove my word, then."  
With that he jammed the blade into my eye. I felt pain rocket through me, my muscles straining and tensing against the makeshift bonds that held me in place, just strong enough to stop me. I screamed and howled as I felt the blade shift around, reducing my eye to mush, scraping against the bone in my soket.

"HOW DID YOU KNOW?"

He plunged the blade further and further into my head. I started to black out. When he realised this he retracted the knife and cut thinly down my arm, just enough to get me back into consciousness.

"I'm sorry about that." He rearranged his watch on his wrist. "I lost my cool. I wont let it happen again."

_Yeah right._ I thought, imagining him flipping out within the minute. I was 'disappointed', though. As when he next took an instrument he used it with the delicate precision of a surgeon, removing some of my fingers, layer by layer. I can't recall much of the rest.

From that point it is a night of pain, fogging my mind and judgement.

Then you showed up, thank Glob. I had completely forgotten that I was having you round. You know the rest, I guess. You kicked down the door to the sound of me screaming, saw me with, with. Anyway, you handled it and now I'm here. Hopefully I'll recover soon.

"Wow, what you did for me is incredible. Thanks for not blowing my cover. I can never possibly repay what you did for me." My visitor replied.

For a while he's been undercover in the CCC and he was going to tell me what he'd found out. Fortunately he was running a little late so the cult member didn't see him. Grob only knows what would have happened if he did...


End file.
